


Grape Soda

by throwupsparkles



Series: Grape Soda Verse [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Crossdressing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Homophobia, M/M, Notfic (sorta), Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Drug Use, September 11 Attacks, Sexual Content, Soldier Gerard Way, Strangers to Lovers, Tattoo Artist Frank Iero, U.S. Army
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23416087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/throwupsparkles/pseuds/throwupsparkles
Summary: Frank liked that Gerard thought of weapon chicken nuggets and liked the taste of grape soda and cum.Or, the one where Gerard ticks a few things off his bucket list before his deployment to Afghanistan with a little help from Mikey’s hot tattoo artist friend.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Series: Grape Soda Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689652
Comments: 22
Kudos: 115





	Grape Soda

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a prompt from [FrerardHub](https://frerardhub.tumblr.com/prompts/) :  
> Frank is a tattoo artist, and Gerard is trying to get his first tattoo but totally freaks out and Frank has to comfort him.
> 
> This started out as a not!fic just to get me out of my writing slump but then morphed into something else. So, it reads like a regular fic in some parts and a not!fic in others. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I know that 9/11 is a sensitive topic to people, still today. I am in no way trying to disrespect that horrific event by writing about it in this fic.

So instead of Gerard writing Skylines and Turnstiles after 9/11, he joins the army. Everyone is really shocked because a) he’s not super patriotic and b) he only ever barely passed gym classes. Gerard is sort of taken back by his response as well, and has a panic attack when he leaves the recruiting office, but what’s done is done. 

Mikey’s reaction is the worst though. When Mikey comes bouncing down to the basement after school, Gerard is sitting crossed legged on his bed chain smoking. Mikey doesn’t think this is particularly odd behavior at first, but then he realizes that Gerard is listening to Blur which he only does when something depressing has happened. So, Mikey is like...what the fuck happened? And Gerard just breaks down crying and says how sorry he is. And Mikey REALLY starts to freak out and so Gerard tells him that he joined the army and that he’s leaving for bootcamp in two weeks. Mikey laughs at first, then when Gerard doesn’t stop it with the perceived joke, he shoves him. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mikey hisses.

“Lots of people are joining now.”

Mikey shoves him again. “Not you! You,” he breaks off laughing on the edge of hysteria, “you can’t even jump rope!”

“What’s that have to do with anything?”

“You can’t even shoot any of the zombies in House of the Dead!”

“Mikey--”

“No, _fuck_ you,”he hisses and storms back upstairs and into his room. Gerard hears the slam of his door on the second floor. 

His parents had sat at the dinner table, shocked. His dad had nodded and said he was proud of him, but his eyes were broken. His mom just cried silently, her trembling manicured fingers pressed to her lips. 

And, Mikey had come around. He waited until three in the morning, but he finally went back down to Gerard’s basement and curled up in his bed. He laid his head on Gerard’s chest and whispered, “You’re not allowed to die.”

And Gerard just pressed his face against Mikey’s hair and inhaled, breathing in home because he couldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. Not to Mikey.

Mikey ends up driving Gerard to basic training in South Carolina. They hadn’t been outside of Jersey or New York since their last family trip to Busch Gardens when Gerard was thirteen. Well, Mikey had if you counted the time he followed the Pumpkins up and down the coast. Mikey let Gerard pick the music the whole way, and it was perfect. He kept the windows down and they shared cigarettes and gossip. They eat nothing but Twizzlers and Dr. Pepper for the whole eleven hours it took to get there. Mikey refused to let Gerard drive and just kept him talking so that he wouldn’t think about where he was going. 

Gerard practically shits his pants when he shows up on base. Mikey held him for way too long at the entrance, he cried and played with Gerard’s hair. 

“They’re going to cut this you know,” he said.

Gerard nodded and pulled away. “I know.”

Basic training is nothing like in the movies, it’s worse and it’s better. He didn’t expect the way his body had to break down for them to be able to make him soldier ready. He expected to cry a lot, but he didn’t expect the nights where he laid on his cot and just stared at the wall, feeling like a shell of a person. Because that’s exactly what they were trying to do. They were trying to make him empty so he could kill people. And the fact that he acknowledged that made him throw up his breakfast almost every morning. 

What he’s not expecting is the friends he makes, Ray and Bob. Bob is a Chicago kid with the exact scariness Gerard would expect in a soldier. Gerard thinks Ray is like him at first, they both signed up way too quickly in the aftermath of the Twin Towers, but Ray’s radiant positivity pushes him through to graduation with the rest of them. Gerard think’s he blinked and made it to graduation, blocking out the days he spent face first in the mud or the way he sobbed after he fired a gun. 

He doesn’t tell his parents or Mikey about the graduation date and Bob and Ray are like...wtf man your family needs to be here. And Ray is like, “I lowkey didn’t think you’d survive the Warrior Tower, that fall was rough.” And Gerard shivers, because his back still gets spazzy if he lays in a position too long. And Gerard is just like, “look, I can’t watch them sit in the crowd when I’m going to ship out soon. I just need to seperate Mikey from this world. When I see him, I want him to be home. I don’t want my worlds to bleed. Does that make sense?” And Bob and Ray are silent, because they fucking get it. 

  
*  
  


After Basic Training, he gets sent home. But because it’s only been like three months since 9/11, he’s getting deployed at the end of the month. And Gerard is fucking scared. And also, sorta pissed because this is going to put a damper on Christmas.

He hasn’t been on a plane since before 9/11, and from the looks of the tight looks everyone is sporting in the cabin, neither has anyone else. Gerard throws back a Xanax when the flight took off, but his hands still shake at the landing. Mikey calls to say that he’s waiting in baggage claim and Gerard practically runs there.

Except he’s wearing his camis, and he’s getting looks from everyone he passes. He’s never been out in public with his camis and it’s sort of off putting. Everyone is looking at him like he’s some hero, but he feels like a fraud. He doesn’t feel in his skin at all. Not until his arms wrap around Mikey and he buries his face against his hair. His heart swells and he lets out the breath he’s been holding since Mikey dropped him off at camp. 

“You don’t look as ugly as I thought you would with short hair,” Mikey laughs to mask his tears. Gerard pulls away and rubs his hand against his cropped locks. “Yeah, that wasn’t my proudest moment.”

“Did you cry?”

And Gerard doesn’t answer. 

Gerard smiles when he gets in Mikey’s car. It’s a mess, filled with fast food soda cups on the floor and CD cases. It smells like he’s eaten too many greasy french fries and smoked too many cigarettes. He puts his hand on the armrest and plays with the broken leather. 

Gerard leans down and holds up the Diamond Dogs’ case. “Stealing my CDs now?”

Mikey shrugs. “Maybe.”

When they pull up to the house, Gerard hesitates.

“What?” Mikey asks.

“I just know mom is going to cry,” he sighs. And also, he’s got a weird tug in his heart over seeing his home after the hell he’s been through these last ten weeks. He sorta thinks he’s dreaming in a way. 

Mikey nods. “She will.”

Gerard wipes his face with his hand and takes a deep breath before getting out of the car.

It’s not that bad. His mom does cry, but then there was a lot of pasta that made Gerard feel the kind of full that made you cozy. His mom was reluctant to let him out of her sight, but eventually he talked her into letting him have some alone time to decompress.

Which is sorta what he’s doing now. 

Except, really what he’s doing is writing a bucket list because he’s a morbid fuck. It’s not that he thinks he’s for sure going to die, he just isn’t positive he’ll make it back from the tour alive either. And he’s only twenty-four with a lot of things that he hadn’t gotten to do yet. 

Mikey comes in with some Pop Rocks. He sits next to Gerard on his bed and hands him the Watermelon one, since it’s his favorite. Gerard grins and rips open the package. 

“What’s this?” Mikey asks as Gerard dumps the candy on his tongue.

“Bucket list,” he says around the sizzling.

Mikey frowns. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Mikes, I just…” he trails off.

“I get it,” Mikey whispers, “I’d probably do the same thing. Let me see it.”

Gerard hands it over and dumps more candy in his mouth. 

Mikey chuckles a little, “Get stoned? Are you even allowed to do that?”

Gerard shrugs. “If I do it early enough I’ll have it out of my system before I go back.”

Mikey nods. “Yeah, ok. Go out in drag? That’s a good one. Get a tattoo? You hate needles.”

“I’m the only one in my platoon without one. It’s starting to be a big deal.”

Mikey laughs, “Yeah well, I guess we’ll see if that one turns out. Ew, didn’t need to see ‘have sex in the back of a car’. You’re such a cliche.”

*

And Mikey takes the list seriously. The next morning he tells Gerard he can get weed at their house by two.

“Um, ok?”

And that was how he ended up sitting in the basement of his grandmother’s house with some tattooed guy. He couldn’t stop watching him as he talked animatedly about his band and how they keep getting booked for shows, even outside of Jersey. Mikey is grinning back with enthusiasm, but it’s hard for Gerard to feel the same joy when he knows that he’s not going to be able to go to any shows after Christmas.

Tattoo Guy starts breaking down a nug of weed with his fingers, crumbling it up on a SPIN magazine. “So Mikey says you’ve never been high before?” He asks.

Gerard shakes his head shyly. 

“How old are you?”

Gerad scoffs. “I just never was offered.”

Tattoo Guy looks up from his task and smiles. “That wasn’t the question.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

Tattoo guy whistles. “That’s a long time to go without getting high”

Gerard rolls his eyes as Tattoo Guy goes back to breaking down the weed for a joint. He should really ask him to repeat his name, but it’s one of those phobias that Gerard has that makes him horribly awkward. He thinks it’s Fred, but he doesn’t really look like a Fred. 

“Frank works at a tattoo shop,” Mikey says.

Frank, right. 

“Oh?” Gerard asks.

Frank nods. “Yeah I just finished my apprenticeship so I am open for business. Why, do you want to get something?”

Gerard nods. “Yeah I’m thinking about it.”

Frank hums as he rolls a joint and Gerard can’t help but be a little mesmerized at how he licks the paper, his tongue firm and sure. His lips slightly wet after around his piercing. He holds the joint to his lips and lights it, puffing a bit to get it going before handing it to Gerard. “All yours, sweetheart.”

Gerard goes red. He’s pretty sure even his toes are blushing. 

Frank laughs softly. “Don’t be nervous.”

Gerard takes the joint and puts it between his lips and inhales. He immediately feels the burn and dryness at the back of his throat and coughs. Frank pats him on the back. “Coughing is good,” he promises. 

Gerard smiles and holds the joint to Mikey who shakes his head. “Puff, puff, pass, bro,” he says, so Gerard takes another hit and thinks that he’s probably going to regret letting Mikey help him with his list. 

By the third rotation, Gerard is feeling pretty fuzzy and lets the two of them finish what’s left of the joint. Mikey puts on Bowie and they lay back on the basement floor. After a while, Mikey gets up to go make pizza rolls. 

“So a tattoo, huh? Do you have any?” Frank asks.

Gerard shakes his head. 

“A lot of firsts all of a sudden,” Frank muses, tilting his head to the side so that he can look at Gerard. 

Gerard does the same and says, “I’m getting deployed at the end of the month.”

He’s not sure if it’s because he’s high, but Frank’s face falls. His eyes dim and his grin twists the wrong way. “Oh.”

Gerard closes his eyes, because Frank’s sad eyes are starting to pull at his heart. 

“Are you scared?”

Gerard laughs humorlessly. “Of course.”

And then he feels warm lips against his. His eyes fly open and meet intense hazel. The kiss is short and careful, Frank pulls back and hovers above him, waiting for permission. Gerard reaches up and tugs on Frank’s shirt and he grins before pressing back down. 

Gerard’s kissed his fair share of guys, but never like this. Most of his kisses were just to get to the main event. He’s never really had a boyfriend before. Most of his relationships had been messy hookups after too many beers. Frank is kissing him like _this_ is the main event. He coaxes his lips apart and sighs into his mouth. Gerard tangles his fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his head and pushes his hips up against Frank’s. Frank grins against his lips and pushes down and Gerard groans at the friction that shoots tingles down his legs and into the pit of his stomach.

Frank cups the side of Gerard’s face with his warm hand and slows them down. He brushes his lips against Gerard’s softly, nipping at his bottom lip before moving up to press a small kiss to the tip of his nose.

Gerard wants to cry at the gentleness. 

Frank rests his forehead to Gerard’s. “So I don’t usually go around kissing strangers.”

Gerard laughs softly. “It’s the army thing.”

Frank laughs softly. “Is it now?”

Gerard blushes. 

  
*

Gerard doesn’t bring up the kiss to Mikey for the next couple of days, but it’s like Mikey can read his fucking mind and starts attacking him when Gerard is picking through different skirts he got from the thrift store. And so Gerard just caves and talks about how soft Frank’s lips are, but like how it also drove him mad because he could feel his lip ring digging against his lips and Mikey just shakes his head like...too much information.

“Ask him out,” Mikey groans leaning back against Gerard’s bed.

Gerard holds up a red lacy skirt to his hips and sighs in the mirror. “I don’t think he was really hitting on me.”

“You said you guys made out in the basement.”

“Yeah after smoking pot and after I told him I was leaving the country at the end of the month.”

“To fight for his freedom, gotta be a turn on.”

“Or just an easy no-strings attached situation,” Gerard says tossing the skirt.

“No I liked that one,” Mikey says, “It’s better than that tacky leopard one you were looking at.”

Gerard turns to Mikey. “I just don’t see the point. We don’t really know each other, so it’s kinda…”

“Isn’t the point of dating _to get to know_ each other?”

“In three weeks?”

“Guess you shouldn’t put off that phone call then, huh?” 

And so Gerard gets Frank’s number from Mikey but just walks around with his thumb poised over the call button. Mikey realizes his brother is never going to call Frank, so he drags him to a party and just oh so happens to forget to tell him that Frank’s band is playing. And of course Gerard freaks the fuck out because not only is he not prepared to talk to Frank again, but also he’s in a fucking band? He’s about to cum in his pants just watching the scorpion on the side of Frank’s neck get wetter under the sweat dripping from Frank’s hairline. And the way his lips are moist from singing, his face red from screaming...yeah he needs to get out of there. 

So, that’s how he ends up sitting in a guest room on the second floor with the window open, chain smoking. He knows that he’s a loser, ok? This is nothing new, but he sorta thought that going to basic training would have changed this part of him. He thought that having drill sergeants screaming in his face would have broken down that insecurity in him. 

And so he’s really not in the mood when the door opens and Frank walks in. He thinks about being an asshole and leaving, but he also doesn’t want to. He _wants_ to be near Frank, he just doesn’t want to at the same time. “Hey, weirdo,” Frank says softly, “What are you doing in here by yourself?”

Gerard blushes and ashes out the window. Frank comes over to sit next to him. 

“Are you hiding from me?”

“Sorta?”

Frank grins mischievously. “I’m not a scary guy.”

Gerard takes a drag. “I think it’s the situation that’s scary, not you.”

Frank lights his own cigarette. “What’s scary about the situation?”

Gerard grins sadly. “I just have a tendency to be intense.”

Frank nods and ashes. “Intense is ok,” he says, “If you’re being genuine.”

Gerard picks at the loose thread coming from his converses. Frank puts his hand over Gerard’s and Gerard smiles. “I’m not good at dating.”

“That’s subjective.”

“No,” Gerard says in a breathy laugh, “I’m _not_ good at dating. I get attached too quickly, I read all the wrong signals. I don’t know how to do casual at all.”

“I didn’t say I was looking for casual,” Frank points out. 

“I’m leaving in three weeks,” Gerard says sadly.

Frank tugs on Gerard’s hand until he's half in Frank’s lap. Frank smiles at the squeak that escapes Gerard’s throat before kissing him. “I’m not looking for casual,” he reiterates.

  
*  
  


And so Frank and Gerard sorta start dating. Mikey is totally here for it, he’s not even mad that Frank is stealing all the brother bonding time that he’d have with Gerard because he sees how happy Gerard is. Like, Mikey thought he was driving Gerard to his death with the way his eyes looked so haunted on that car trip. So, yeah he’s sad that he’s not stuck to Gerard’s side for the whole three weeks he’s here, but he doesn’t regret it because when he sees Gerard sneaking back in the house like a teenager he’s grinning wildly and his eyes are pure glitter. 

Speaking of sneaking in the house like a teenager, Gerard pulls Frank down to his basement one night and Frank laughs at all his posters of guys in bands. “How long did it take for you to realize you were gay?”

And they spend the night in _most_ of their clothes, and Gerard is sort of glad that they haven’t slept together because it reiterates the fact that this isn’t just a sex thing for Frank. But also, he really wants to have sex with Frank. 

Mikey comes down the next morning holding up a pair of heels he found. “I finally found something to match your skirt that’ll also fit your godzilla toes and…” 

Gerard sits up with wide eyes and shakes his head, but it’s too late. Frank just sort of stares at the heels then back at Gerard, then back at the heels. Mikey just stands frozen on the steps like :O and Gerard is staring at Mikey so that he doesn’t stare at Frank, wondering what he’s going to say. Finally Frank says, “Those are hot.”

So Mikey comes down and gets Gerard to try them on. They’re red and strappy, and when he stands in them wearing his King Kong shirt and striped boxers, Frank is like...fuck and can’t keep his eyes off Gerard’s legs. Gerard blushes and wants Mikey to please fuck off so he can drop to his knees and suck Frank off, but Mikey stays and tells Frank about Gerard’s list instead. 

  
*  
  


Frank brings Gerard to the tattoo shop with him one day and Gerard almost throws up as soon as he hears a tattoo gun whirl to life. 

“How are you going to get a tattoo when you can’t handle just the _sound_ of the gun?” Frank laughs and Gerard shrugs, blushing. He’s always blushing around Frank, he thinks it’s just his normal state of being now. 

But Gerard gets into the art of everything. He sits in Frank’s studio space and watches him prepare stencils and draw his own flash sheets. He hands Gerard a blank paper and has him make a flash sheet as well and this is just really fucking nice. Gerard always hoped that he would find someone like this. Where they could just exist in their own minds and create. He looked for that in art school, which was the wrong place to look because everyone is just so up their own asses. 

Gerard decides that he wants one of Frank’s drawings on his skin, not his own and then it’s Frank’s turn to blush. Frank hands him different flash sheets that he’s done in the past and Gerard flips through them until he finds a drawing that’s not really part of a flash sheet. It’s just a doodle in the corner of a ghost with a halo and it pulls at Gerard’s heart so he points it out to Frank who just laughs and says that’s not even a tattoo design. And Gerard doesn’t get it, he’s like “this is what I want.” And Frank rolls his eyes and is like, “fine but we’ll wait until you can actually come in without looking like you want to cry.”

  
*

Gerard doesn’t tell Frank what day he decides to wear his skirt, he just answers the door one day dressed in his red lacy skirt and heels. He also is wearing a pretty tight blouse, shaped with the bra he has stuffed with silicone inserts he bought at the department store. His lips have been painted red and his lids have sparkles on them. 

Frank is all :&

And Gerard just bats his fake eyelashes, then Frank pulls Gerard to him and kisses him. Frank pushes Gerard against the doorway and tilts his chin up, licking at his cherry lips until he opens up. Frank tastes like cigarettes and grape soda and Gerard doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to drink grape soda without moaning now. The skirt and heels make him feel bold, and he sort of hikes his leg up and curves it around Frank’s hip. Frank takes hold of it, pressing his hips closer to Gerard and fucking moans at the fact that Gerard’s legs are so smooth.

“Did you fucking shave your legs?” Frank asks and Gerard tries to say yeah, but Frank can’t stop kissing him and Gerard can’t stop moaning really either because doing this with just a skirt on instead of jeans is letting him feel A LOT more. 

And of course that’s when Mikey comes home from the mall with his friends. And Mikey is just like “God, Gerard keep it in your skirt.” And Gerard just blushes and hides his face against Frank’s chest while it shakes with laughter. 

Gerard fixes his lipstick in Frank’s car and grins at the way Frank can’t stop staring at him. Frank takes him to a diner near the tattoo shop and Gerard can’t help but blush at the way a man holds the door open for him while Frank is paying the parking meter. 

“Mikey says I went a bit whorish,” Gerard says, looking at his phone. 

Frank shrugs. “I like it.”

“I know you do,” Gerard laughs. 

“So is this like a thing, or just a list thing?” 

Gerard shrugs. “I’ve always felt more feminine than most of the guys I know.”

“So you join the army?”

Gerard laughs, because that’s a fair question. He sips his soda, waiting for the right words to say before, “I don’t like labels. I don’t like to look at things as black and white either. Why can I only do or wear certain things that are acceptable for men? I just, today I wanted to wear a skirt, so I did.”

And Frank just nods. Not because he doesn’t know what else to say, but because there’s really nothing else to say to that. It’s totally valid and he reaches out to squeeze Gerard’s fingers. He smiles at his painted fingernails. 

“I’m not very well versed in gender correctness,” Frank says, furrowing his brows in concentration, “so, do you want me to use different pronouns to address you?”

Gerard beams at him and brings their tangled hands to his lips, leaving a red smudge on Frank’s knuckles. “No, but thank you. I’m still Gerard. I just like to wear skirts sometimes.”

So Frank smiles and says, “Ok”, and that’s the last time they talk about it. 

  
*

On nights that Frank works late, Gerard climbs the stairs to the second floor and finds himself sitting on Mikey’s bed as he plays video games. Gerard used to share a room with Mikey when they were kids, but once Gerard hit high school he begged his parents for a separate bedroom and they let him move down to the basement. At first Mikey was sorta put off like...you don’t want to hang out with me anymore? And Gerard had to explain that the space would make them better brothers. Gerard thinks about that a lot now. If the miles between him and Mikey when he was at basic training made him a better brother now. If him being a soldier made him a better brother. He thinks it’s supposed to. That all the bullshit they spewed at camp about the training making you stronger is supposed to mean something greater. He’s supposed to mean something greater.

He always wanted to be greater for Mikey. He felt like he slacked pretty hardcore in that section. And like, it’s not that he was the world’s worst brother, but he also felt that Mikey deserved better because it was fucking Mikey. And so, part of him feels like he’s setting the good example of going off to fight for his country, doing the American thing and being brave. But he also doesn’t know if he buys into that shit. 

He also doesn’t think that he was doing much with his life before the army either though. He was working a shit job in the city just making copies. And, well he doesn’t like to think about it much. But, he knows that wasn’t the version of himself he wanted Mikey to aspire to be. He was miserable. He’d drink all night, wake up in the morning hung over and sit amongst faceless people on the train to work. They didn’t have faces to him until that day. He never heard their voices until he heard their screams. 

“Gee?”

And Gerard blinks, realizing he’s in his own mind again. “Sorry.”

Mikey pauses his game and turns on the floor so that he’s facing Gerard. He pulls his Spyro sock covered feet into his lap and digs his thumb into the arches. “You didn’t break in the heels before you went out did you?”

Gerard shakes his head and hisses at Mikey working out his tight tendon. 

Mikey shakes his head. “Amateur.”

And Mikey just knows what to do or say to break through Gerard’s spiralizing. He thinks that Mikey should’ve been the older brother. Gerard learns a lot from Mikey. 

“Tell me about Frank.”

So, Gerard dives into full gush mode. He talks about how cute it is that Frank tries to be all punk all the time, but he’s such a sweetheart. Compares him to an angry kitten a lot. Like, if Frank could hear him, he’d probably threaten to kick his ass. Gerard tells him how Frank asked about pronouns and Mikey is like...that’s fucking aweome. And Gerard is like I KNOW! And Mikey can’t stop smiling because Gerard can’t stop smiling. And he asks about the tattoo and Gerard rolls his eyes, says he’s working up to it. 

  
*  
  


Gerard lets Frank fuck him in the middle of a Monday. 

He doesn’t know why, but he always thought of night time as the best sexy time. And it’s probably more to do with the fact that Gerard likes to fuck in the dark becaues he’s self conscious and he thinks that he’s in pretty good shape now because of basic training, but he still wants it to be dark when Frank takes off his shirt for the first time. But it’s not because Frank is a freak and likes to have all the lights on even when it’s daylight to fuck. Wants to see how beautiful Gerard is and Gerard goes fucking red at all the praise that Frank kisses into his skin. 

But when Frank presses Gerard into the mattress, Gerard can’t feel self conscious let alone even think. He never loses himself in someone when he has sex. He is always almost too aware of how he’s moving in relation to the other person. Always acknowledges the way the skin around his hips roll when his legs wrap around hips. Feels the way his thighs jiggle, how his stomach rounds out when he’s on top. Frank pulls him out of his own body. Well, that’s not exactly true either. He pushes him further into his own body. He’s hyper aware of every nerve, can feel them light up under Frank’s fingertips and tongue. He feels his heart pounding, can hear it in the back of his mind. He feels the desire coiled in the pit of his stomach, wounding up into pleasure and threatening to come undone as Frank grips his hips and pulls out moans from Gerard’s strangled throat. 

Frank doesn’t stop after Gerard cries out, the coil snapped and releases hot smooth honey throughout his veins. He keeps tasting, licking the sweat and cum off his stomach. Gerard’s hands tangle in Frank’s hair and he pulls him up to kiss him, tasting himself in Frank’s mouth. Grape soda and cum. Gerard huffs a laugh.

“What?” Frank breathes, grinning a bit.

And so Gerard tells him and Frank laughs, collapsing onto the sheets and pulling Gerard close. Gerad lays his head on Frank’s chest. “You’re such a weirdo,” Frank whispers.

Gerard doesn’t disagree and nips at Frank’s neck. “You like it.”

And Gerard feels light and airy because he _knows_ that Frank likes it. He feels so sure that Frank is secure in him, that he doesn’t filter himself around Frank ever. Even when he’s around Mikey, who always tends to pull the weirdness out. Frank sat in on one of their conversations about Dungeons and Dragons where things got a bit out of hand. Basically Gerard was building a one shot that was centered around a slasher movie and Gerard was going to have all the players get paired with a randomly created adventurer. And Mikey was like, that’s horse shit because I could get stuck as a jester with chicken nuggets as weapons. Which of course got Gerard onto the topic of how nuggets could be viable weapons if you had enough imagination. Basically, nuggets dipped in sauce changed it’s magical properties, for example nuggets dipped in buffalo sauce turned into fire once it connected with an enemy. Anyway, Frank sorta just vibed with Gerard’s oddity. He liked that Gerard thought of weapon chicken nuggets and that he liked the taste of grape soda and cum. 

  
*  
  


Gerard is mentally crossing off days on a calendar with big red Xs. He doesn’t know how to fit in so much time with Frank’s mouth and Mikey’s mind. He doesn’t know how to sit and listen to Mikey talk about this boy at school and how he is convinced the english teacher is in the mob or the fact that he can’t stop humming basslines. And Gerard wants there to be time for him to see how Mikey’s senior year plays out. . Wants him to talk to the boy at school, give him corny pickup lines that somehow still work. He wants to be there when the english teacher finally goes down for money laundering from her side gig at the deli shop on Market Street. He wants to fucking be here for when Mikey learns his first song on the bass. 

He doesn’t know how to not spend every second wrapped in Frank’s purple sheets. Doesn’t want to stop the orchestra they’ve created of rustling sheets, moans, gasps, squeaking mattresses, and “right there” whispers against the backdrop of The Bouncing Souls. He doesn’t want to leave the late night conversations of Frank’s aspirations. What he wants out of the tattoo shop, how he wants to build his clientele. How he wants to find this perfect balance of playing in his band and drawing on people for a living. 

“I’m so lucky,” he whispers, “I am so fulfilled at such a young age.” 

And Gerard isn’t even bitter about it because he _wants_ this for Frank. He deserves this clarity, that he doesn’t have to wonder what he’s meant to do. He’s found it and he loves it and can fucking make money off it and live. No fucking _thrive_. Because it’s different from just living. Gerard was living, but he wasn’t like Frank. He was so dead inside, just going through the motions, and now he might actually die. 

Frank rolls them so that he’s hovering over Gerard. Kisses him deeply, the kind of kiss you feel in your toes and shoots back up to your brain so fast you can’t breathe. “Why did you join the army?”

It was sort of a topic they’ve been dancing around for a bit now. Gerard didn’t want to think about the army while he was home, the same way he didn’t want his family at the graduation or how Ray and Bob and him made an agreement not to text during the break. 

“Gee?”

And Gerard closes his eyes and sighs. He has to snap them back open because he doesn’t like seeing what’s behind his lids. “I was there.”

Frank pauses and waits, before, “There?”

“On nine eleven.”

Gerard can swear he hears Frank’s heart fucking breaking. “Gerard,” he whispers, cradling his face in his inked hands and kissing him gently. Gerard swore he wouldn’t break down again over this. That’s what joining the army was supposed to fix. That was what he was supposed to do. He did what he thought was the most logical step because everything was chaos. That’s what he told himself. That was the right thing to do. For him. For his country. For Mikey.

“I heard everything,” Gerard continues. “I was on the train from Hoboken and I didn’t see the plane hit or anything. I saw the buildings fall. And the fucked up part was just that I felt that I should have been frozen in time, you know? That something like that should deserve stillness, but everything kept going. There was this, this _frenzy_ . And I was just on the rail, watching this building fall and I could, Frankie, I could _feel_ everyone’s heart break at once.”

Frank falls over to his side and gathers Gerard close, wrapping his arms and legs around him and squeezing. Like his limbs would keep Gerard together somehow. 

“It just made sense after it all. After I went home and washed the ash out of my hair. After I laid in bed with Mikey. I just remember holding him thinking that I would do anything to keep that from happening to him. Not just the actual violence. I never want him to see something like that. Because, it broke something in me,” he whispers like he’s sharing a secret, “I don’t think that part will ever get fixed either. It’s not a fracture that anyone can see, you know? It's one of those things that the doctor misses and it kills you later.”

“Shh,” Frank says, because while he usually lets Gerard rant himself out, this one is too scary to hear. He thought he was brave. 

“I just didn’t know how else to protect Mikey.”

“I know, baby,” Frank whispers.

  
*  
  


Gerard slips the baby doll dress over his head and feels like Courtney Love. If Courtney Love had a pixie. He pulls up his stockings and buckles his Mary Jane heels. 

Mikey had said that going out in drag was a good idea because he already knew that Gerard liked to wear skirts.But he had never left the house in a dress before. Too scared of what people who weren’t Mikey would think. And him finding out wasn’t this huge climatic thing in their relationship, Mikey just came down to the basement one day and Gerard was laying in bed on his stomach reading a comic. Wearing a satin dress. Mikey never asked questions because he just knew Gerard’s mind. Knew that this wasn’t “just a phase” or that it was something deeper than it needed to be. Gerard just liked wearing women’s clothes sometimes. Liked the fabric on his skin. Liked how it shaped his body differently. How it seemed to shape his behavior as well. He felt lighter somehow, or heavier but in the hips that swayed more when he had something flowy on. 

He goes into Mikey’s room with a box of bleach from the drugstore. “Help me?”

And Mikey grins widely. 

That’s how they end up in the bathroom with the tiny window open and Morrisey singing to them. Mikey slushes the bleach on Gerard’s cropped cut. “It’s a good thing we’re doing this now instead of when your hair was longer.”

Gerard nods. “Sorta why I’m doing it.”

He doesn’t think that rebellious streak in him will ever die out. Even if he gets shot down in another country. Dying for a war he’s not sure he believes in. 

“Because it’s not the terrorists that they're sending the army for,” some girl at a party Frank took him to had said. “It’s the fucking oil. That’s all it is. Soldiers are dying for oil.” 

And Frank had told her to shut the hell up and Gerard just looked at the ground. “She’s not wrong, I think.”

Frank had kissed his cheek, protectively. 

“No,” Gerard continued, he looked up at the girl with the pretty purple braided hair. “I don’t think they’re sending me there to fight the bad guys. Because how do you win a war on terror? Terror isn’t a person you can shoot. It’s a fucking idea. And ideas never die.”

“Gerard,” Frank had whispered.

“People do,” Gerard had said, haunted. 

People like him. 

People like Ray and Bob.

When Gerard washes his hair and blows it dry, he laughs manically at himself. He looks like a cancer patient. He looks like fucking death. And he sees Mikey hovering in the hall, watching him have a mental breakdown. He doesn’t say anything, just takes Gerard’s hand and leads him outside to the car. He puts on Iron Maiden, something loud enough to drown the thoughts in Geard’s head. Mikey puts on Iron Maiden and they just drive. Drive and Drive like they’re nothing and all Gerard can think about is that short story from _The Things They Carried_. How this guy came back from Vietnam and couldn’t stop driving his truck around the lake. Around and round he went. 

And Gerard feels just as dizzy. 

  
*  
  


“Ready, Princess?” Frank whispers.

They’re alone in the tattoo shop and Frank has the stencil in his hand. This isn’t the hard part so Gerard nods. Frank leans down and rewards his bravery with a kiss. He lays his latex covered hand on his pect and lays the stencil gently over his heart. He rubs it down, then pulls off and smiles at the transfer. 

He sits back and Gerard can’t help but say, “Admiring your handy work?” 

Frank grins. “Admiring you, pretty boy.”

Gerard blushes and hates that it goes down to his chest. Frank grins and places a gentle kiss in the center of his chest. Then goes to uncap his bottle of ink. Gerard goes rigid. Frank picks up his gun and Gerard starts to hyperventilate. So Frank sets it back down and frowns. “I’m not sure about this.”

Gerard shakes his head. “Please.”

Because it’s not even about the tattoo much anymore. It _kinda_ is. Like he’s always wanted one, but never could get past the needle part. But this is totally more intense than that. This is doing something that he’s scared of. He needs to get over this. He needs to stop being afraid. He needs to be a fucking soldier. 

“Gerard, _breathe_.”

And as soon as he inhales, he bows over and throws up on his converses. 

“Fuck,” Frank says, getting out of his chair. He picks Gerard up like a child and carries him outside, setting him down on the hood of Mikey’s car. “It’s ok,” he whispers, “It’s done. You’re out of there.”

And Gerard just starts sobbing. He knows that Frank probably thinks Gerard is fucking crazy right now but he just can’t stop. He can’t stop shaking or the wounded animalistic noises ripping out of his throat. He doesn’t sound like himself in his ears. His ears feel like they’re filling up with water though. He can’t even hear what Frank is saying. Just hears noise like the same “WAH WAH WAH” that he heard when he used to crack whip its in dirty club bathrooms with art students. For a moment he’s afraid that he’s back in his body there. That he got sucked into the fear and was spat out as the little drugged art loser he used to be. Back when he thought fucking pictures meant something.

“They do mean something,” Frank says, breaking him out of the spiral he’s falling through. He hadn’t realized he was talking out loud. Frank lifts Gerard’s chin up so he is forced to look at Frank. “Pictures, art. It means _everything_. More than a fucking gun.”

And Gerard winces at that and tries to push away.

“No, fucking look at me,” and he waits until Gerard does look back at him. “Why do you want a tattoo?”

Gerard sniffles and shrugs.

“Bullshit.”

Frank takes Gerard’s chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting his face up so their eyes meet. He arches an eyebrow, waiting. 

“I just want to do something brave,” he whispers.

Frank’s eyes dim. “You’re not doing it for the right reason then.”

And Gerard just sits on the hood of the car, cold as Frank walks off to go mop up Gerard’s puke. 

  
*  
  


It should have made things more awkward, but it didn’t. They didn’t have time for things to be awkward. Gerard was leaving in just a week. It’s Christmas and Gerard knew that they would spend the majority of the day apart because of family obligations. Which Gerard thinks is horseshit because he’s about to be shipped off to go kill people and he thinks he should spend what time he has left in bed with his boyfriend. Preferably naked.

Instead he spends hours with Aunts and Grandparents asking him about basic training. And he can’t really answer because he blocked most of it out and the parts he didn’t make him want to projectile vomit over Aunt Viv’s red pantsuit. Mikey gives him :/ looks all day and Gerard huffs loudly whenever he enters a room and sees more people that haven’t asked him about his impending doom. Why the hell did italians have such big families?

Frank sends him pictures of his mom’s dogs dressed in Christmas sweaters and Gerard isn’t sure how to feel about that because he sorta thinks it’s animal cruelty but Frank is vegan so he trusts his judgement on this one. 

Gerard keeps going outside to smoke cigarettes because it gets him out of the crowded house. Mikey comes out and bums a cigarette and they’re mostly quiet because Mikey isn’t quite sure what to say right now. He’s sorta freaking out that Gerard is leaving in days not weeks now. And it’s starting to freak him out and Gerard can tell. Gerard hooks an arm around him and pulls him close, resting his chin on Mikey’s shoulder. “Ok, Mikey Way?”

Mikey sighs and Gerard knows it’s a no, but he doesn’t push it. 

“You keep walking around here like you’re going off to die.”

And Gerard feels like shit because he sorta thought he was keeping that away from Mikey, but of course he didn’t. Because Mikey lives in his mind just as much as Gerard lives in his. “I’m no--”

“Yeah, you are,” Mikey huffs, “It’s like you aren’t even going to try.”

“Mikey--”

“And, I get it. Sometimes I get really down, but I would never _leave_ you like you are leaving me.”

And there it is. That’s the fucking sentence that rips apart the last of Gerard’s heart. It’s no secret that Gerard has had periods of his life where he was really suicidal, but Gerard doesn’t think this is one of those times. 

“I joined for you,” Gerard whispers.

And Mikey tears away from him and glares. “Fuck you.”

“Mikey--” Gerard tries, because this is fucking breaking his heart. Everything he does is for Mikey, and like, why can’t he see that? So they sorta just stand there awkwardly feeling all moody and Gerard doesn’t want to spend the last of his time home with Mikey mad at him. And Mikey doesn’t really want to waste his final days with Gerard being all moody and pretending to be mad at him. Because, yeah he’s fucking pissed but he can never really be mad at Gerard, not really. 

So, they sorta just sweep it under the rug and smoke another cigarette, before Mikey suggests that Gerard takes Mikey’s car to go run away with Frank. Gerard laughs and pulls him into a quick hug before taking Mikey’s keys from his outreached hand and dips out. 

Frank is already waiting for Gerard at the edge of the yard of his Mom’s house. He pulls up and suddenly feels like he’s in high school because it’s sorta silly. But it tugs at Gerard’s heart. And they drive around for a bit, Frank tells Gerard about his Christmas and how his mom made him help in the kitchen all morning. Which Gerard thinks is cute because Frank is trying to be all annoyed, but he’s grinning like he loved every minute of it. And so somehow they end up behind the shutdown toothpaste factory on the edge of town. Gerard kind of laughs to himself because this is where you would get murdered, especially in this town. It’s also the part in every horror movie where they’ll start to get busy and then some psycho with an axe will come and chop up their sinful bodies. 

Frank doesn’t get his internal monologue, or maybe he’s just getting used to the fact that Gerard goes away in his head for a bit. But he reaches for Gerard and they start making out like teenagers. And it’s really fucking nice, except for the awkward maneuvering around the center console and the steering wheel digging into Frank’s back when he climbs into Gerard’s seat with him.

“Backseat?” Frank suggests, and Gerard giggles. Because, Mikey was right, he’s a fucking cliche. 

And that’s how Gerard ends up naked under Frank in the back of his brother’s car, surrounded by fast food cups and CD cases. And it’s pretty hot and heavy until Frank sort of sighs sadly and tells Gerard, “I don’t have any condoms.” And Gerard is like….wtf did you think we were doing? And Frank laughs and is like...it was Christmas, I’m not walking around my Mom’s house with a pocket of condoms. And so there’s a little bit of awkward rustling as Gerard digs through Mikey’s glove compartment in the hopes of finding a condom, but no luck. Frank drops a kiss on Gerard’s shoulder and whispers, “I’m clean. We can if you…” And Gerard shivers, because fuck yeah he wants. He’s never done that though. Even when he was fucked up in school, he still took sexual health seriously, because fuck, it was sexual health. You don’t fuck with that. But this is Frank, and he lays back down and reaches up to pull Frank down to a kiss. “I trust you,” he whispers against his lips. 

And something about _nothing_ between them has Gerard’s toes curled tighter than usual. Has him digging his short nails into Frank’s back harder. Has him moaning louder, right in Frank’s ear and it drives him mad. Geard’s hips are starting to burn and the leather on his back really doesn’t feel good, but he can’t stop himself. He’s totally out of body right now, just floating above them watching Frank’s tattooed back move over Gerard. Gerard’s head tips back and Frank licks down his throat while he keeps hitting that spot in Gerard that makes him go blind and deaf at the same time. 

“C-can’t,” He whines.

Frank mouths against Gerard’s damp shoulder. “You can, baby, I’ve got you.”

And that’s all Gerard needs to completely lose it. He starts babbling and whining, before his mouth is shaped in a silent scream and then he’s panting and his body sags. He’s sort of mad that he missed Frank’s orgasm, but he likes that it happened at the same time. Frank just collapses on top of Gerard, not caring about the cum all over Gerard’s stomach and chest. 

“Another one off the list,” Frank whispers and Gerard laughs.

“Was it everything you wanted,” Frank continues to tease and Gerard traces shapes into Frank’s cooling skin. “You’re always everything I want.”

Frank blushes at that and lifts his head to kiss Gerard. Softness so stark from their previous frenzy. It brings him back to their first kiss. How Frank could cause such a hurricane inside of Gerard, then slow it down to a light misting in just moments. 

In any other situation, this would be the moment that Gerard would whisper how much he loves Frank. And he know, he fucking knows its too soon. That usually this is why he doesn’t do relationships. He’s too intense, falls in love too quickly and can’t contain it. But, he doesn’t want to ruin this. Not this. Frank is too perfect, especially with the way he’s looking at Gerard right now. He doesn’t have to say anything, that look right there tells Gerard everything he needs to know. 

Frank fucking loves him too. 

*  
  


The next days pass slowly and in a blur all at once. And it happens the Tuesday before he’s supposed to hop back on a plane. Gerard slips into Frank’s car in his favorite black dress. It hugs his hips in the best way and the long sleeves make his arms look dainty. Frank leans over and kisses his berry colored lips and smiles. “You look beautiful.” 

Frank parks the car outside the train stop and takes Gerard’s hand as they make their way up to the platform. Gerard hasn’t taken the train since 9/11. He always had Mikey drive him into the city if he needed something, not that he frequented the city much anymore. 

Frank knows this is hard for Gerard, he keeps an arm around his waist and pulls him close so that Gerard can lay his head on his shoulder. When they get to the river, Gerard looks away, not wanting to see the empty place where the towers should be. Frank presses kisses against his bleached hair. 

Frank takes him to an art show, something that one of his friends is in. It’s been awhile since Gerard has been to a gallery, not since art school at least. And so Frank is a bit nervous at first because he knows that Gerard went to art school and probably has a lot of opinions, and he doesn’t know if he could be able to handle Gerard telling him his friend’s work is trash. But of course that doesn’t happen because Gerard is a fucking sweetheart, and he seems to find something to like in almost any body of work. He lives and breathes the idea that art is subjective. 

“I just know the pressure,” he says to Frank over his can of Coke Zero, “I know what it’s like to have a room full of people look at your work. It’s like peeling back your flesh and letting everyone poke at your insides.”

Frank just hooked his arm around his neck and kissed him, filthy in front of everyone and he didn’t really care that his lips were stained the rest of the night. When he introduces Gerard to his friends as his boyfriend, and no one bats an eye at the fact that Gerard is wearing a dress and lipstick. Frank can’t keep his hands off him all night, watching his eyes glaze over when he stares at paintings is too similar to the look he has when he’s fucking him. Gerard can feel him undressing him visually and it makes the room too fucking hot, so he takes Frank’s hand, wrapping his painted fingernails around his wrist. Presses on the pulse point and that little touch drives Frank wild. Gerard pulls him into the restroom, pushes him into a stall and drops down to his knees.

“Motherfuck,” Frank hisses as Gerard undoes his pants. 

It’s everything that Gerard needs right now. His bare knees on the cold tile contrasted with the warmth of Frank’s skin. The way Frank is tugging at Gerard’s short blond hair. The way Frank’s skin is staining purple from Gerard taking him deeply. Hearing Frank try to muffle his moans with his hand over his mouth. He looks like pure sex right now. Hair mused, cheeks flushed. 

Gerard has to reapply his lipstick after, but can’t stop giggling at Frank’s blissed out expression. He’s draped over him, his chin resting on his shoulder. “Here, let me,” he says softly, taking the tube of lipstick from Gerard. He turns and gently swipes the color back on Gerard’s swollen lips. “Perfect,” Frank whispers, wiping the excess that smeared outside the lines. 

Gerard never minds it when people drink around him, but Frank never does. He always opts for a soda when they’re at the bar. It’s one of those courtesies that Frank always gives that makes Gerard fall in love with him over and over again. Gerard’s not used to being so taken care of in a relationship. Frank always lights Gerard’s cigarette first, gives him his jacket even though it’s the beginning of winter in Jersey, gently runs a washcloth over his stomach after sex, has him text Frank when he gets home so he doesn’t worry. He feels cherished and small, but not in a belittling sense. He just feels protected and loved. 

“You ready to head back home?” Frank asks quietly and Gerard nods, leaning into him. Frank wraps his arm around his waist and leads him back out into the cold. They stop by one of those food trucks and get tacos. Frank just gets beans and veggies in his and Gerard laughs at how quickly he eats it. Frank is very passionate about food, in that he’s really into getting it in his stomach as quickly as possible. 

They share a mexican mocha on the way back to the train station and Gerard thinks about how this is one of those moments that are just so simplistic but perfect. But that’s before Gerard is hit with a force. Pain blossoming on his face and his ears ringing. He feels sticky, hot liquid coat his berry mouth, and when he coughs a red bubble forms on his lips. 

He realizes he’s on the ground and everything is disorientated. He lifts his head from the metal platform by the rail and his head spins. But he sees Frank trying to fight off two guys in heavy boots. He’s fending well considering that he’s outnumbered and sized.

And when Gerard gets himself off the ground he can hear his drill sergeant. He sees the Towers fall. Hears the screams and sees the ash around him. He feels Mikey in his arms. Sees Ray and Bob in their camis as gunshots ring out in the background. Feels himself on his knees, throwing up after pulling the trigger. Sees Frank, blood on his white shirt. 

And then he sees the two guys on the ground under him, with busted faces. Frank’s hands tug at Gerard’s dress and the train pulls up. Then, he’s being coaxed into a plastic seat. Frank takes off his leather jacket and pulls off his shirt, pushing it up against Gerard’s nose. He winces at the hot pain that radiates throughout the rest of his face. “I know, baby,” Frank whispers. He won’t meet Gerard’s eyes at first and he sees the way the hand that’s holding the bloody shirt to Gerard’s face is shaking. 

Frank’s never seen that part of Gerard before. He let his two worlds bleed into each other.

“I’m--”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Frank bites out, looking up at him finally. “Those homophobes got what they deserved.”

And Gerard sort of winces at the word. That’s what they were. He didn’t even really process what had happened. That they had _attacked_ him for wearing a dress. For holding Frank’s hand.

“I don’t…” but Gerard trails off because he doesn’t know how to articulate how he’s feeling. The fact that he just got punched in the face for simply existing. 

And then he starts crying, the tears mixing with the blood and Frank has a hard time keeping up with wiping them away. His hands are red. 

“I’m a soldier,” he whispers. He’s supposed to be strong. He’s supposed to have the right mind frame for getting attacked. He’s going to be _shot_ at and whatever else in a week. 

Fuck.

In a week he’s going to be away from Frank’s gentle hands. There’s not going to be anyone to wipe away his tears or hold shirts to his bloody nose. No one is going to let him cry and come apart for being attacked. For being scared. 

“You’re human,” Frank whispers back. 

  
*  
  


He’s leaving tomorrow.

Gerard didn’t sleep last night, just kept watching Mikey snore softly next to him. Mikey hasn’t left his side since he came home with a bloody nose and busted knuckles. Frank doesn’t blame him, he hovers to the side during the day when they binge Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Mikey keeps trying to get Gerard to eat, but his body feels too full from fear and he’s not sure he’d be able to keep anything down anyway.

This would be a great time for a beer if Gerard knew it wouldn’t make things worse. Mikey sees that look, so he keeps lighting cigarettes for him. Frank keeps pouring coffee and they help Gerard get through the day without a drop of alcohol. 

Frank has to leave for work and Gerard walks him out to his car. Frank hovers for a moment by the drivers door before pulling Gerard to him. “I’ll see you tonight right?” 

Gerard nods. “Yeah, I’ll come by the shop when you get off,” he says gently. 

Frank doesn’t let him go.

“Frankie, you’re going to be late.”

Frank releases him just enough to kiss him, short and sweet. A promise.

“See you later.”

And when he comes back inside Mikey is like “we’re not doing this.” And Gerard is like…? Mikey just grabs Gerard’s hand and drags him back outside and they get in the car. Mikey had bitched at the fact that Gerard had sex in his car, that it was seriously fucked up that he had to smell sex every time he got into the car for days and knew it was from his brother. _Fucked_. But he had a grin, because Gerard was happy. Gerard was smiling and not looking like he was a dead man walking. 

Mikey keeps the windows down and blasts music as he drives them around. Gerard doesn’t feel the dizziness this time. Mikey’s hand bouncing off the steering wheel in time with the beat is grounding him here. The smell of cigarette smoke and the Jersey air. The bite of the cold whipping through the car. Mikey’s voice, normally timid and quiet, belting out lyrics like his voice would give out any moment. Mikey’s grin. His hair blowing in the wind. His knee bouncing from the excitement of the guitar riffs. And his laugh. His laugh, laugh, laugh that makes Gerard laugh. Because his brother can chase away his demons with just a car ride. With music and cigarettes and laughter. Even in the face of death, Mikey Way laughs. 

  
*  
  


Gerard pulls up to the tattoo shop when the lot is empty. He gets out of the car and knocks softly on the door. Frank answers with a grin. “I just need to clean up a bit, then I’m all yours.”

Gerard follows him back to his studio space and picks through the pages of art while Frank continues to sanitize his station. His eyes trace over the inked images and he imagines them moving against someone’s skin. Sees them traveling the world on flesh. Frank may never leave Jersey physically, but his art is going to see the world. Frank will be all around the world. Gerard wants that for him. 

He finds the sketch of the ghost with a halo, and his fingers hover over the image. _His_ image. And he pulls out the paper from the stack and holds it out to Frank who just smiles tightly. “That didn’t work out so well last time, did it?”

“It’s the last thing on my list,” Gerard whispers.

And Frank shakes his head. “Not good enough.”

Gerard goes back to Frank’s question all those days ago. _Why do you want a tattoo?_

And the answer is different now. He thinks the answer was always different from the one Gerard told Frank. I want to be brave. Sure. He does. He’s tired of being scared all the time. He’s tired of having to push himself past the fear to be someone he thinks he has to be. But he doesn’t have to be anyone in front of Frank. _You’re human_. That’s all Frank’s expectations were of Gerard. He didn’t need him to be the soldier. He didn’t need Gerard to protect him from the Towers. Didn’t need him to hide his skirts and heels. He didn’t need him to stop laughing whenever he drank grape soda. 

Gerard holds the paper down and stares at the ghost. “Did you ever read _The Things They Carried_?” --and Frank shakes his head-- “Well one of the stories, and like the meaning behind the title, is that all these soldiers would carry trinkets with them to war. You know, pictures of their wives, lockets, love letters, a lighter from their dad, whatever.” Frank just nods, waiting for Gerard to get to the point. And Gerard sorta dances around it in his mind for a moment, but when he finds it he whispers, “I just, I want to carry you,” and grins at Frank’s melting eyes. “But you’re almost not tangible to me anymore. I don’t want a locket, I want you in my skin. Because you already live there.”

Frank takes the paper from Gerard’s hands and fills them with him instead. His warm hand molds around Gerard’s jaw and presses his lips to his, gentle at first. Then seeking, looking to see if his words were true. Tasting them on his tongue and sighing at the validity he finds. He lifts Gerard up and sets him on the chair, smiling. 

“Please,” Gerard whispers against Frank’s lips and he nods. He presses a quick kiss to Gerard’s forehead then goes to create the stencil again. Gerard keeps his eyes on Frank’s hands, his sure movements that recreate the ghost. He turns and raises his eyebrow to Gerard and Gerard blushes before sitting up to remove his shirt. Frank goos up his pect before laying the stencil down gently, patting it down. He leans over and kisses Gerard before peeling back the paper and revealing a little purple ghost. 

“Perfect,” Frank breathes, leaning back.

And this is the part where Gerard starts to freak out. Frank keeps a hand on Gerard, keeping him grounded. Doesn’t let him go into his mind this time. Just focus on his hand. 

“Look up at the ceiling,” Frank instructs.

Gerard leans back and starts to count the specks on the ceiling. He hears music roar to life, it’s Bowie. The same album that they were listening to the day they met and Gerard grins at that. Almost wants to cry at the sentiment. It does nothing to mask the sound of the tattoo gun springing to life though. Frank stool creaks and Gerard jumps when he feels his hand press against his chest. “Breathe.”

Gerard inhales.

And then he feels it.

Frank doesn’t give him time to second guess this time, just presses the tattoo gun into his skin. And he keeps his eyes on the ceiling, because if he sees the needles dancing into his skin he’ll throw up again. He tries not to think of it as needles. It’s just a burn really. It feels sensitive like a sunburn, and like someone running their fingernail across it. But it’s not agonizing or anything. He just keeps breathing and humming along to Starman. 

“You’re doing so good,” Frank praises softly. 

Gerard wants to chance a look at him, but he can’t. He can’t make himself look away from the ceiling, because if he does he’ll be broken from his trance. 

“Almost done,” Frank whispers.

And Gerard can sort of tell. He’s been able to follow the line of the drawing that’s taking form on his skin. So, it makes him furrow his brows when he feels the gun move off the stencil. Frank must be freehanding something. And it’s not that Gerard is scared that he’s deviating from the original design, he’s just fucking curious. 

Then the gun goes silent and he hears Frank move back. “Done.”

Gerard exhales. 

And then sits up and looks down at his inflamed skin. The ghost is alive. It looks beautiful and is exactly what he needed, but then he sees the script underneath. 

**I love you.**

And then there’s movement. Frank’s in his lap, straddling him in the chair, pressing him back and Gerard is arching his hips. 

“Love you,” Gerard whispers, “Love, love, love you.” And Frank catches his declaration in his mouth, swallows it whole to keep inside for when Gerard leaves in the morning. His hands fumble at Gerard’s waistband, undoing the button and zipper. 

“This doesn’t seem very sanitary,” Gerard teases.

And Frank grins, “It’s not.”

“Good,” Gerard breathes.

  
*  
  


Gerard doesn’t realize it’s New Years Eve until Frank turns on the television and they watch the ball prepare to drop. He could tell even through the screen that the atmosphere was different from the previous years. This was more somber. They weren’t just celebrating the new year, they were saying goodbye to the last few months. The hardest months that they had ever seen. Frank reaches over and squeezes his hand. “Ok?”

Gerard nods, his throat tight.

Frank gets up to get them something to drink. “What should we toast with?”

Gerard wipes at his eyes and clears his throat. “I’m not sure. We didn’t get any sparkling grape juice or anything.”  
That makes Frank laugh, “I have the next best thing.”

He comes back with two cans of grape soda.

  
*  
  


Gerard drives home after the ball dropped. He drives through the sounds of fireworks and tries not to imagine them as gunshots. Mikey is sitting on the front porch looking at the fireworks over the houses, smoking a cigarette. 

Gerard comes over and sits next to him and leans his head on his shoulder. He thought that his last night would be super emotional, and it sorta is. But it also just exists. He appreciates that Mikey doesn’t try to say the right thing, or even say anything at all. He just needs to feel his shoulder against his cheek. Needs to share the same air as him. Wants to smell the beer on his breath. 

“I finished my list.”

Mikey’s lips curls up. “You actually got a tattoo?”

Gerard lifts his shirt and Mikey’s eyes sparkle. “That’s really great, Gee,” he says softly, eyes tracing over Frank’s declaration. 

“Is he coming with us to the airport tomorrow?”

“Is that ok?”

“Of course.”

“I just--”

“Gee.”

“No, Mikey, I,” he sighs.

Mikey reaches for his hand and squeezes. “I know.”

And, yeah he does.

  
*

No one speaks on the drive to the airport. Mikey doesn’t even play music, he just keeps the windows down because he can’t breathe. 

They walk with him while he gets his boarding pass. He keeps his eyes down so he doesn’t see everyone staring at his uniform. But he feels Frank’s eyes. 

And when he gets to the gate, he turns and hugs Frank first. Frank buries his face into Gerard’s neck and breathes him in. “I love you”, he whispers, bringing his hand to rest over Gerard’s tattoo. Gerard grins against him, “Love you.”

And then, because Frank knows exactly what Gerard needs right now, he steps away to let the Way brothers say their goodbyes. 

Mikey clings to him and grips at the uniform he hates. Mikey hates him for this, but he’ll never say that. Instead, he keeps quiet because he knows he’ll start crying if he opens his mouth. Gerard sways them and presses his lips against Mikey’s temple. “I promise,” he says, finally answering Mikey after all these months.

_You’re not allowed to die._

“Mikey, I promise.”

And Mikey squeezes him tighter. “Good,” he manages. 

**Author's Note:**

> I got two hours of sleep today because I wanted to finish writing this. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
